


In Every Way Possible

by dareee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Highschool AU, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9465482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dareee/pseuds/dareee
Summary: If there's anything that Dean Winchester knew for certain it was that angels don't exist, and nobody should hold any sort of faith in God, even if He really was out there living it up on some golden cloud. He had more faith in his father than he ever could have had in God.And then he meets Castiel; weird, dorky, socially inept Castiel, and Dean's life takes a confusing turn in every direction. He's left to find all the missing parts of himself, and just as soon as he thinks he's got everything figured out, Castiel has to go and tell Dean the secret of the millennium.  Dean doesn't know what the Hell to do after being exposed to that.





	1. Chapter 1

There was a sort of stillness that went along with the feel of an early morning and a late night, which was always accompanied by the clutch of the crisp air around you and an odd sensation of being devoured by darkness. If you were caught outside in such conditions, you were dubbed one of two things; either you were a freak, or you were just straight up stupid. That night, the latter seemed to be more suitable in the case of Dean Winchester, and he found himself wondering for a brief moment why – and _how_ – he had ended up standing in the middle of the main road without the comfort of his jacket in twenty-five degree weather at 1:47 in the morning.

It became apparent that being out there in the first place wasn’t the only thing he should be worrying about, because hurdling down the street at a careless speed happened to be a pair of blindingly bright sources of light, and with these lights came his memories. The loud music blasting his eardrums, the drinking, the dancing, the feeling of delicate fingers brushing his jacket off for him, the pair of lips pressing against his own, that cock-blocking asshole, those dares; it all flooded into his brain at once and washed his dismay clean. He was freezing his ass off out there and he wanted to go home – or at least finish what he started with the girl from earlier – but he was not about to look like a pussy for backing out. He had an audience on the sidewalk, and he never did like disappointing people. So regardless of any potential threats to his life, Dean had no intentions of jumping out of harm’s way until the very last second. 

The vehicle was approaching fast, music booming from the car radio so loud it rivaled that of the vibrating house of which he and all of the other teenagers had recently stepped out of. Dean was ready. He had this, he knew he could dodge it in time. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. His fingers were twitching with excitement. People were cheering him on.

There was a man behind the wheel who had slammed his foot onto the breaks a moment too late. The vehicle was running towards Dean, but the thought of actually dying never crossed his mind, and the high pitched screeching of tires against pavement were drowned out by the thrill of it all. This was it. Dean Winchester was untouchable, and he was going to prove it to everyone who was still watching. 

Against all logic, time seemed to slow down considerably. The car in front of him, the headlights advancing on his body – it all stopped for a total of three seconds, leaving Dean to reflect on any past choices he could remember. He ended up reminding himself of one memory per second; two years ago when he was forced to choose between family and going to a dance with the girl of his dreams came first. The second past choice that found its way into his memories were just last summer when he, Sam, and their father went to New York and he opted to sneak out and drink like no tomorrow rather than stay in the hotel. The last one was the most recent one, and he had just gone through it no more than an hour ago while making out with some chick he barely knew despite him already having a girlfriend. 

Suddenly a heavy force smacked against his side, snapping Dean right back into reality while he went tumbling across the road. He stopped rolling when his head hit against the curb with an unsettling noise, followed quickly by a sharp, throbbing pain. It took him a minute to refill his lungs with oxygen, and when he could feel the cold air sting his throat and slap at his cheeks again, Dean scrambled to his feet and looked around himself. In the middle of the road, the truck had come to a complete stop and the radio had been turned off, and on the other side of the street there were several people running away from the scene while a select few stayed to watch. 

Movement pulled Dean’s attention back to the miscreant that spoiled the perfect night. He stared at the guy still sitting on the floor – a teenager with dark hair, and eyes that reflected the moonlight so vividly that it seemed almost ethereal. Dean didn’t know this person; didn’t find anything familiar about his facial structure; didn’t even recognize him from the Lawrence hallways. There was no way that he’d forget such distinct eyes, and so he came to the conclusion that this kid didn’t even go to his school.

But his judgment was also impaired by a large consumption of alcohol and the lack of proper lighting, and instead of saying thank you to this man who just saved his life, Dean narrowed his gaze into a sharp glare and shouted; “Dude, what the hell? I had that!”

To which the other guy responded with by furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head to the side. He was just staring at Dean with a look of confusion, and Dean couldn’t believe that one person could seem so truly baffled by their own actions. 

Frowning at this teenager that just helped ruin his reputation, Dean crossed his arms.“Hey, you gonna say somethin’ or just sit there like-”

“What the Hell were you doing in the middle of the road?!” was what had interrupted Dean. The voice was firm and loud, and when Dean turned to look at the owner he noticed that the driver was now a lot closer than he had anticipated. “I could’ve killed you!” Turning back to the crowd still gawking from the sidelines, he waved an arm in the air. “Hey! You kids better beat it ‘for I call the cops!”

With the driver’s back turned to Dean as he watched all the other drunken idiots stumble their way in every direction, he had no idea that Dean himself had wrapped his hand around the wrist of his ‘savior’ and bolted. The two boys took a shortcut through someone’s front lawn, through their backyard, and had barely escaped the jaw of a Boerboel before Dean loosened his grip completely so they could hop the next two fences until finally making it to a completely separate road where Dean knew they wouldn’t get into trouble for making bad decisions as juveniles. 

Struggling to catch his breath, Dean took several gasps of air before regaining the ability to speak. “I don’t know who you think….” He slowly trailed away from his sentence when he turned around to find that no one was there. It was just him and the distant sound of a barking dog alone in the stillness of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Morning light ripped through Dean’s drawn blinds, filling bits and pieces of his room with transparent golden rays and partially exposing both his neatly placed movie collection and a stack of overturned porn magazines. Aside from the soft snoring, all was quiet and peaceful in that typical little room. The only living thing was Dean himself, and he was dreaming away in the surrounding silence. 

And it stayed that way until the clock at his bedside table turned from 6:44 to 6:45. The calm was disrupted by the roaring voice of Ted Nugent and Dean’s blanket moving about as he stirred awake. For a few minutes he stayed in the same position on his mattress and listened to “Cat Scratch Fever” play on the radio. It wasn’t until that song ended and the instrumental start of Yvonne Ellimen’s “If I Can’t Have You” began when he finally got out from under his sheets.

Keeping the music on, Dean made his way to his closet and grabbed the first shirt that caught his eye, and then he reached for a pair of worn out blue jeans. Once equipped with his choice in clothing, he turned around to walk out of his bedroom and down the hall to their bathroom. But when he got there, the shower was on and the door had been shut and locked. So Dean double checked to see if his father’s keys were on the table or not, and having found that there were no signs of the shining metal, he raised his eyebrows and went back over to the bathroom, knocking twice on the door.

“Up early, aren’t you Sammy?” he asked. 

On the other side, Dean could practically hear his brother rolling his eyes. “First of all, Dean, my name’s not Sammy. It’s Sam. Secondly, I’m always up this early.”

“What?” Dean scoffed. “No you’re not. I always have to tell you when to get out of your room.”

“That’s because I go running in the morning, and by the time I get home you’re stealing all the hot water. Then I just wait it out in my room ‘till you’re done,” he replied. 

Dean leaned away from the door, looking as if that statement had personally offended him. “Running? What kind of fourteen year old goes running?” 

“The healthy kind.”

“You disgust me. Hurry up.”

In that moment the shower knob squeaked and the sound of water hitting against the floor of their tub ceased to exist. Dean had leaned himself against the opposing wall, waiting for his turn in the bathroom. After listening to some shuffling noises, the door clicked and opened, revealing Sam with a towel wrapped around his waist and a bundle of sweat soaked clothes under his arm.

“Why don’t you try going for a jog every once in a while?” Sam asked. “It’s refreshing.”

Dean glanced past his brother and into the bathroom, trying to make out the details of his reflection in the foggy mirror. His eyes trailed back to Sam. “Excuse me? Are you trying to say somethin’ about my figure?”

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to get some fresh air once a week.” Adjusting his towel, Sam moved out of Dean’s way and started down the hall.

“Hey!” Dean called out. “I’ll have you know, I ran pretty hard Saturday night!” 

Sam stopped and turned halfway to stare at him. “You mean when you were getting away from the poor guy whose windshield you almost dented?” 

“Who told you that?”

“Jo texted me.”

“Snitch,” Dean grumbled. He stepped into the bathroom without another word and shut the door behind him, proceeding to strip himself of his pajamas. He settled under the shower head, turned on the water, jumped the second ice hit against his skin, and then hollered; “Damn it, Sammy!” 

And though he was unable to hear it from where he stood freezing over, Dean swore Sam was snickering at him. Quickly and begrudgingly, he soaked any night sweat that he had accumulated over the course of the past seven hours and then smothered his hair with the substance of a black two-in-one bottle, all the while thinking over events from that party he had attended. Having heard Jo had told his brother about what happened got him thinking about it again, and he began to wonder if that kid’s eyes had the same glow under the sun as it had under dull streetlamps. 

He didn’t think much on it, however, and instead opted to finish up his time in the shower as fast as possible. After just a few minutes, he turned off that ridiculously cold water and stepped out to dry himself off. The mirror was no longer smudged by steam, and Dean got a good look at himself while throwing on his clothes. His right arm was pretty scratched up from being pushed to the ground that night, and he frowned slightly at the bruises on his shoulder. He rolled his eyes and pulled the shirt over his head before continuing to get ready by brushing his teeth and running his fingers through his still wet hair.

“Jo needs a ride to school,” said his brother when he entered the kitchen.

Dean opened up a cupboard and snatched a box of protein bars. He took out two and stuffed one of them into his pocket. Then, he glanced down at his watch. “Tell her she should hurry if she plans on catching the bus.” 

Sam pulled an expression that Dean had long ago dubbed one of his ‘bitch faces.’ “Don’t be a jerk, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist, Samantha.” Dean took a bite of his protein bar, not bothering to swallow before opening his mouth again. “Tell her we’re on our way.”

Sam nodded and turned his attention back to his phone while Dean continued to eat his breakfast. As he chewed, Dean walked out of the kitchen and down the hall towards his bedroom. He could hear the melody of some unrecognizable song dancing into his eardrums, and he hurriedly shut it off. Swallowing the remains of his protein bar, Dean reached for his father’s leather jacket. 

He stopped short when he realized he had left the damned thing at the party over the weekend, and settled on his old corduroy jacket instead. 

 

Jo was standing outside with her backpack and two books when the Winchesters had arrived in front of her house. She had been in the middle of reading one of them when they showed up, only snapping out of it when Dean honked the horn. Jo jumped, blinked, and then hopped into the backseat with all of her stuff. Dean waited until she was settled in before stepping on the gas pedal. People were everywhere trying to get to school or work that time of day, and he narrowly avoided hitting some idiot that decided to jaywalk in that moment.

Dean glanced into the rear view mirror, holding eye contact with Jo for a moment before his eyes moved back to the road. “Catching up on all the latest romance novels, Belle?” 

“Of course.” Jo’s eyes had been narrowed and she was sending death glares into the back of Dean’s head. “After all, it’s not like we were assigned to read anything over the weekend.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s right.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Really, Dean?”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Jerk.”

“I almost forgot,” interrupted Jo. She caught Dean’s eyes in the rear view mirror again. “I saw some guy take off with your leather jacket.”

“Get the Hell out of here. Who?”

“Don’t know. Looked kind of like the same dude that stopped your dumb ass from the whole dare thing.”

“What a bag of dicks,” muttered Dean, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “First he makes me look stupid in front of the whole senior class, and then he steals my clothes?”

“It wasn’t just the senior class,” said Sam. 

Jo nodded. “He’s got a point. I’m a sophomore and they still let me in.”

“Great.”

“I thought I saw your girlfriend there, too,” she said. 

Dean slammed on the breaks just in time for the orange light they had been fast approaching to turn red, and all three of them jerked forward. 

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed.

Jo shifted in her seat. “Are you trying to give us whiplash? Learn how to drive.”

Turning around to face her, Dean had a serious expression on his face. “You saw Amanda?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“Did she look pissed?”

“I don’t know. I saw her in the crowd outside, it was too dark to see her expression.”

Sam turned to stare down his brother. “Does she have a reason to be pissed?”

There was a pause, and then, “No. Not at all.” 

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but was cut short by Jo. “Green light.”

 

As Dean continued to drive, he also turned up the radio in order to drown out the loud criticism coming from Sam’s bitch face and the annoyed Jo sitting in the back. Only when they were parked down the street from their school did Dean turn down the radio. He took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car along with Sam and Jo. 

“Why park way down here?” asked Jo with raised eyebrows. “There’s a carport at the school, you know.”

Dean adjusted his backpack and then shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The weather was cold enough for him to see his breath, but not enough for him to act like a total pussy over it. Although, he’d be a Hell of a lot warmer if he still had his favorite leather jacket.

“I don’t trust teenage drivers around my baby,” Dean told her. 

“He’s incredibly overprotective of that car,” Sam stated. 

“I’m just looking out for her.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows and then glanced over to Jo. “The day he lets anyone other than our dad drive that thing is the day he’s fallen head over heels in love.”

“If that ever happens,” came Dean’s mumbling voice, “I want you to shoot me. I don’t care how hot that girl is behind the wheel – I’ll obviously need a reality check. Baby comes before everything else. She’s my first priority. A real, classic beauty.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Jo. 

The first thing that happened when they set foot on campus was get stopped by Dean’s girlfriend. She spotted him right away and made a beeline for the guy, and for a moment Dean was sure she was going to smack him silly. That is, until she gripped his face and smashed their lips together. 

“Okay,” Jo started out awkwardly. “I’ll just, um, get to my locker then.”

“I think I’ll go with you,” said Sam. 

Dean had completely ignored them in favor of Amanda. He was too busy feeling her up to even hear the cat-calls coming from someone in the crowd. It wasn’t weird until Amanda’s grip tightened and she suddenly bit down on his lip so hard it drew blood. 

Completely caught off guard, Dean pulled away from her and stumbled backwards. “What the fuck was that?” he asked, touching his finger to his lip. There was a stinging pain that lingered longer than necessary, and if his eyes were watering then there was no way he was going to admit it. He blinked down at his blood covered hand and then went to look back at Amanda. “Are you crazy?” 

A few people had stopped to watch what was going on, but not everyone was so keen to find out the whole story. Many of them kept on walking, but there were still enough other students around to give unnecessary commentary. 

“I went to the party on Saturday.”

Once the realization sunk in, Dean broadened his shoulders and put both hands back into his pockets. “You said you wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“I did say that. I wasn’t planning on going, I had to study for my philosophy test and I don’t like going out anyway.” Amanda’s facial expression went from angered to sad in a matter of seconds. “But a friend convinced me that I had all week to study, and I wanted to surprise you. You said you wanted me to go with you, so I thought...” She knitted her eyebrows together and sharpened her stare. “I saw you and Lisa.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he said. 

Taking a deep breath and decidedly dismissing Dean’s comment, she continued. “I’m not mad, Dean.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“Just let me continue,” she said, exasperated. Dean raised his eyebrows and Amanda took that as her cue to go on. “I just thought maybe… Underneath your whole ‘I don’t give a crap,’ bad-boy thing, that there was something more going on... But I was wrong. And you spend so much time trying to convince people that you’re cool, but it’s just an act. We both know that you’re just a sad… lonely little kid. And I feel sorry for you, Dean.”

A break out of murmurs started to buzz around them, and Dean found himself clenching his fists and tightening his jaw. Not breaking eye contact with his now ex-girlfriend, he calmed himself down enough to speak. “You feel sorry for me, huh?” he scoffed. “Don’t feel sorry for me. You don’t know anything about me. I’ve saved lives – I’m a hero. A hero!” 

People watched in silence as Dean pushed past Amanda and into the school building with smoke coming out of his ears. He stomped his way to his locker and punched it, scraping his knuckles and sending a sharp pain through his arm. But in that moment, with all the blood boiling in his veins, he didn’t even feel the sensation. Then he took a deep breath and opened his locker to take out a notebook. 

The sound of metal slamming against metal seemed to echo in the now quiet hallways, and it was a silent agreement among all the other students who had been witness to the outbreak not to go anywhere near Dean in his current mood. It wasn’t as if he had cared for Amanda in any way, but the fact that someone had pitied him so much got to his nerves and he couldn’t properly handle having that emotion directed towards him. 

In a moment of distraction, Dean found himself turning a sharp corner of the hall and bumping directly into someone. He stumbled slightly at the sudden contact and when he looked down he noticed that it was some kid with messy dark brown hair. An image of that dude from the party instantly flashed through his mind, but Dean knew better than to think this person was the same guy. Their eyes were completely different. Dean could tell – even though it had been too dark to really make out much of his face – that those pair of eyes were a magnificent blue, and the ones he was staring into in that moment were nothing other than a dull hazel. 

“Sorry,” mumbled the kid, quickly maneuvering around Dean and heading off down the hall. 

The random interaction had sparked something inside of Dean, and he developed an overwhelming urge to find the boy from Saturday. As he walked around, he kept an eye out for anyone who resembled the guy. Black hair in his peripheral vision made him turn his head instantly, while pale skin made him try and look into their eyes without seeming like a complete creep. 

When the bell sounded for first period, Dean came up empty handed and with no clue as to where he could find him. That is, until he spotted someone he knew could help him when approaching his classroom. 

Before him stood a bent over woman with dark hair falling over her face and a tank top that revealed a thin line of skin above her belt. She stood alone, rummaging through her locker with relaxed shoulders, and Dean stepped up to her with confidence. 

Stopping next to her, he lifted his elbow and let it push up against the row of lockers to his right, leaning all of his weight onto them. 

“Pamela,” he said in greeting. 

Straightening up, she turned to give Dean a once-over before displaying a very smug, very flirty smile. “Mmm-mmm-mmm, Dean Winchester. Out of the headlights and back in the field, huh? Makes you a very lucky deer.”

Dean paused in spite of himself, but loosened up within a second and gave her an easy grin. “If you say so,” he said, leaning in closer to her.

“What’d you need, handsome?” Pamela put a hand on Dean’s shoulder to gently push him away, though she let her fingertips linger on the corduroy for a moment longer. 

Glancing at the delicately placed hand, Dean pulled himself away from the locker he was leaning against. Pamela retracted her hand as he did so, and he put one hand into the pocket of his jeans. “I wanted to know if you knew anyone around here with, uh, dark hair.”

Pamela laughed. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific than that.” She turned back to her locker and grabbed a small pencil box. 

Lazily, Dean’s gaze swept over her locker while he tried to think of a better description, when something caught his eye. Someone had carved into the inner part of her locker door the words ‘Jesse Forever.’ He frowned, raised his eyebrows, and then turned to look back at her.

“Who’s Jesse?”

Sparing nothing more than a single, short-lived glance towards the words, Pamela let out a breathy chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t forever.”

“His loss,” Dean told her with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

With all of her books in hand, Pamela shut the locker door and turned back to him. “Might be your gain,” she said. 

A small smirk formed on her lips at her own words, and a huge grin took over Dean’s face as he reexamined her body. She certainly was a very attractive young woman, with most of her baby fat gone and a look in her eyes that screamed ‘wild.’ Though Dean himself preferred blondes, when it came down to it hair color didn’t mean a damn thing. 

Bringing his free hand up, he coughed a little into his knuckles and tried to bring himself back into reality. “As much as I like that idea… Um, what was I saying again?”

“You were talking about a dark haired mystery person,” she reminded him. Her smirk had since evolved into a playful smile that stayed stubbornly on those pink lips of hers.

“Yeah. I know you’re well connected with pretty much everyone around here,” he continued, “and I thought you might know who I’m talking about.” Dean paused and tried to remember exactly what the guy had looked like, but the clear details he would have been able to wrack up had he been sober were blurred by various other factors. “I’m looking for a guy with really dark hair. Pale skin, I think, and a little shorter than me” - Dean moved his hand to gesture approximately how tall he remembered him to be - “about our age, I’m pretty sure. Didn’t look like a freshman to me, at least.”

“How helpful,” Pamela stated. Then she chuckled and told him, “I’ll see what I can do. But any more information you have would be more useful to me.”

“Yeah whatever.” Dean huffed out a breath and looked away. “I just wanted to thank the kid for saving my stupid ass on Saturday.” He risked a glance back over to her.

Something lit on in Pamela’s eyes, and she gave him a curt nod. “Yes, well,” she pushed passed him, using her free hand to smack his ass on the way. “I think I should thank him, too.” She paused, looked back at his face, and said; “By the way, love the new look. Makes you seem even more bad ass than before.” 

With that, she disappeared into a classroom at the end of the hall and left Dean to let his hand trail over the still bleeding cut on his lip. He rolled his eyes, but smiled and headed to his own first period.

 

After that it was only a matter of how long Dean could wait to hear back from Pamela. He sat through his first two classes with his mind on the expression that his ‘rescuer’ had worn only a couple of nights ago. He had seemed so genuinely confused as to what was happening, and Dean just couldn’t wrap his mind around why that, of all expressions, had been the guy’s Go-To. Once lunch was over, he’d only have to attend two more classes. He figured that if Pamela didn’t talk to him about it that day then he’d approach her with the subject the following morning. 

He could wait. Really. The patience that Dean has built up over the years of hunting with his father and raising Sammy wasn’t for nothing, so it would be totally painless to just sit and helplessly wait for further information… But damn, Dean wanted to meet that guy. And if his reason for wanting to see him in daylight was because of those paralyzing eyes, then no one else needed to know about that.

“Dude, she really bit your lip that hard?” asked one of his friends when Dean approached the table he normally ate lunch at. 

“Shut up, Ash,” he muttered in response as he sat down.

Ash, who had an opened laptop in front of him and a half eaten tray full of food to the side, let out a short laugh. “You steal her makeup purse?” 

“No, he cheated on her,” chimed in Jo.

“Bad move,” said Ash. He turned back to his laptop and started typing God knows what. 

“Really bad move,” Jo added.

With fingers just above the keyboard in thought, Ash glanced back up. “You look all macho now, though. Good for you.”

“I looked macho before, bitch,” spat Dean. 

Ash chuckled and returned to his computer screen as Sam cautiously walked over to their table with his own lunchbox. He got there just in time to hear Jo’s next words. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Dean,” she told him. 

As if Dean wasn’t already disappointed in himself and needed someone else to point out how often he lets everyone down. Sam hesitated before clearing his throat. “Uh… Did I miss something?” 

“Dean can’t keep his dick in his pants,” came the helpful reply of Ash.

“Is this seriously all that you want to talk about?” Dean asked. “Like, you guys really don’t have any better conversation topics?”

Jo shook her head and inspected her uneaten apple carefully. “It’s kind of the talk of the school right now.” 

“Wait,” interrupted Sam, pausing in the middle of taking out his salad. “What happened?” 

Dean scowled at Sam’s choice in food as Jo explained how he had been caught making out with Lisa Braeden at the party he was at Saturday night. 

“Dude, not cool,” said Sam. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Seriously? She’s hot!” 

“I thought Amanda was pretty smokin’,” Ash said, looking up from his laptop. “Nice, too. Never made fun of my luscious locks.” He smiled dumbly at the thought. 

Jo rolled her eyes and opened her mouth in an attempt to say something, but before she could utter a single syllable there was an incredibly loud and sudden ringing flowing through campus. Everyone stopped what they were doing and headed out of the cafeteria to get to the field, which was the typical protocol for whenever the fire alarm went off. 

Ash gathered his belongings, taking care not to damage his laptop in any way, and got to his feet as Jo and Sam stood up without bothering to grab their lunches. Dean stayed seated.

“Are you deaf now, too?” asked Jo.

Dean shook his head. “It was probably just some kid pulling the alarm. I don’t want to get up.” 

“And what if this whole building goes up in smoke?”

“Then I’ll be dead.”

Jo smiled slightly. “That’s my point. Come on, let’s go.” 

Glancing over at Sam, Dean noticed that he had already thrown his backpack over his shoulder and was waiting for him to get up. The majority of those previously within the cafeteria had since left, and the alarm was still stubbornly going off. Sighing, Dean stood up and reached for his backpack. It would be just his luck, though, that the loud ringing would abruptly stop the moment he touched the strap of his bag, and a woman’s voice would sound from the intercom.

“Attention students and staff,” she bellowed. “That was a false alarm. Please resume your lunch as per usual. Again, that was a false alarm.”

Dean fell back onto the metal cafeteria folding bench. “See?”

Jo frowned and sat back down beside him. “Well, that was disappointing.”

“I’m just glad I finished up my code translations,” said Ash as he got himself comfortable again.

“Nerd,” Dean muttered. 

Ash shrugged. “It’s for my IT class. Better to finish up homework now so I’ve got more time to kick back later.” 

“He’s got a point, Dean. Maybe if you actually did your homework...” Sam said from across the table. He piled a few leaves into his mouth as he watched his brother. 

“Put a sock in it, bitch.”

“Wow okay, jerk.”


	3. Chapter 3

By the time school let out, the weather was still somewhat cold and Dean still wished he had his goddamned leather jacket. He supposed that that was what he got for leaving it at that stupid party in the first place, but it was a hell of a lot easier to blame someone else for being a thief than it was to chide himself for his own stupidity.

So that was more or less why he was standing outside of the school for his little brother rather than waiting by the car. He was having second thoughts on the whole thanking him thing, because for Christ’s sake what kind of half decent guy steals your jacket and then saves your life? This type of passive-aggressive behavior was not something that Dean thought he could get used to, especially since he already had enough of that personality type with Jo. He had a new plan all ready in his head; Dean was going to steal his jacket back and hopefully never have to run into that guy again.

Finally, after what seemed like half an hour of just leaning against the wall of the school, he spots Sam walk out of the doors with an older guy he’s never seen before. Dean found himself squinting, trying to see the face of this man, but his eyes are trying to disobey him and before he opens his mouth to call out to his brother, he feels a tap at his shoulder. 

When he turns around, he freezes. Right next to him was none other than the girl he was waiting to hear back from since this morning, her face contorted oddly so that she looked as if she wanted to cry and punch someone in the face. 

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and presented her with a strange expression of his own. He was about to say something to her, maybe ask her what was wrong or what happened, but Pamela beat him to it.

“I’ve got a name. Only a first name, and after this I don’t want anything to do with him.”

Blinking out of confusion rather than the need to actually rest his eyes, Dean watched her for a moment longer. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Castiel happened,” she said. “That’s his name.” Dean, still looking completely bewildered and unsure of what was going on, just sort of stared at her. She stared right back at him, and then let out a long sigh. “I cornered him in the hallway during lunch,” she said. “All I did was ask him if he went to the party Saturday night, and if he was the one that tackled you out of the way. He looked really nervous, and so I just asked him his name to try and let him know that I wasn’t blaming him for anything. He gave me the name Castiel, and after that I told him that he should go look for you. He refused, so I was about ready to drag him to your table myself! Then, he turns around, and pulls the fire alarm!” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I tell him that he’s stupid and turn around to leave. Right when I’m about to head down the hallway, a teacher comes out and sees me and I get in trouble.” Pamela paused to glance over at Sam as he approached to stand by Dean. She shifted a little awkwardly before continuing with her story. “That’s not all, though… When I turned around to tell her that it was him who did it, and not me, he was gone!”

Dean raised both his eyebrows. “He could’a booked it. You guys were in the hallway, right?”

“There’s no way I wouldn’t have heard him running!” she protested. “Everyone was either outside or in the cafeteria.” She shook her head and moved her hands to rest in her pockets. “Look, I’ve got to go home. I’ll see you two around. Bye.”

“Right, uh, see you later Pam,” said the younger Winchester with a confused expression of his own. He watched her as she walked off, and then he turned to his brother. “So… What was that about?”

Dean raised his eyebrows for half a second and then turned to Sam with a sigh. “Well, I know who pushed me out of Death’s path.”

“That’s great!” said Sam.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Apparently he really is a giant dickhead.”

Sam frowned and followed after Dean when he started walking off campus. “He can’t be that bad if he risked his life to save you,” he told his brother. 

“That doesn’t matter,” stated Dean with the shake of his head. “Never mind that, man. I’ll talk to him tomorrow, if I can find him.”

“I thought you said you knew who he was?” Sam asked, keeping up with Dean’s pace, who was only taller than him by an inch now. 

Dean glanced over at him and shrugged. “I know his name. That’s about it. But I plan on having a word or two with him one way or another,” he muttered. 

“Okay,” Sam breathed out. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him.”

“Castiel,” said Dean. Sam didn’t say anything for a moment, so Dean looked over at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What? You know him?”

Seemingly having broken out of his little daze, Sam shook his head. “No, sorry… I thought I saw… Never mind.” Sam swallowed a lump in his throat. “Uh, you said his name was Castiel?”

“Yeah, I know. Weird name,” Dean shook his head. “But that just makes it easier to find him. I mean, how many people do you know with that name?” Sam gave a sort of half smile and shrugged, so Dean continued. “Like I said, I’ll figure out who he is tomorrow. He needs to know that he shouldn’t be a douchebag to girls. Or, anyone.”

“Right. It’s not like he saved you from getting hit by a truck or anything,” Sam stated, putting his hands up in a sarcastic surrender.

“Shut up, Sammy.” 

“Stop calling me that! I'm not twelve years old anymore.”

"Like fourteen is much older," Dean scoffed. "You'll always be a Sammy in my book." He went to ruffle Sam's hair, but Sam just swatted his hand away with a childish pout, which in turn made Dean chuckle. 

The two of them got to the Impala before Sam spoke up again. "Are we not giving Jo a ride back home?" 

"Oh, oops. Forgot about her." Dean looked over the hood of his car towards the school building, waited three seconds, and opened the car door. "Guess she doesn't need one." 

"Dean," Sam sighed out, though he didn't say anything else and simply got into the passenger's seat. "She's probably going to be angry when she walks out here and doesn't see us." 

"What are you talking about?" He turned the car on and looked around before backing out of his parking space. "I never told her I'd give her a ride back home. She can hitch one with Ash." 

"I thought Ash took the bus home." 

"Then she can take the bus, Sam. Either way, I'm starving and ready for a nap." 

Sam frowned to himself and stared out the window as they drove down the street. "You're going to ruin your health if you stay so lazy all the time. You really should start eating at least one vegetable a day." 

"I get it, I get it. Clogged arteries and high cholesterol. Whatever you say, Dr. Oz." 

Sam rolled his eyes while Dean reached over to turn the radio up louder, having deemed this conversation over, and continued to drive to their current residence with his mind desperately trying to cling onto the lyrics of the song and not that bastard that stole his jacket and got Pam in trouble for something she didn't even do. Dean was no doubt going to find this kid, maybe vent his frustration with everything going on in his life in the form of a physical fight, take his jacket back, maybe even do something nice for Pamela, and then forget this whole week ever happened. He was going to forget about the party, forget about Amanda, and most importantly forget about 'Castiel' and his stupid blue eyes. 

And because Dean was so determined to get everything over and done with, the first thing he did when he got home was set his alarm for 6:00 am, so that maybe he could get to school early enough to catch Castiel in the morning. 


End file.
